Transfixed
by wasthereever
Summary: Human AU, College AU. After being forced to go to a showcase of a difference department, Tugger finds himself entranced by a certain dancer. Unfortunately, the target of his affections as too much on his mind to his Tugger a second thought. Rum Tum Tugger/Mr/ Mistoffelees
1. Sniffs and Sneers

**It's been a really long time since I touch and I can't remember my old password and I want a fresh start so I made a new account. There are some themes I want to explore here that I haven't been able to in other fandoms. I hope you enjoy!**

"Bomb, tell me _why _we're in line to see the dance department showcase again?" Tugger sighed, staring at the long line in front of the two of them with growing dismay.

"Because we have to go to a showcase from another department and my _cousin_ is in dance so we might as well go to the dance showcase." Bombalurina replied rolling her eyes. Usually, Bomb was much like the other girls at their school, happy to fall over herself for a sideways glance from Tugger - but even she became less accommodating when pushed too far.

"You didn't tell me that it meant waiting in line for-" Tugger glanced at his phone to check the time, "twenty minutes already! And who knows how much longer it'll be!"

"Relax, they open the doors at 6:30 and and the show starts at 7:00. It's the most popular showcase on campus! I'm sure you won't regret coming."

"An _hour!_" Tugger huffed. "You made me come an hour early to a stupid event we have to go to for class!"

"It's not stupid, Demeter's been practicing for this for months!" Bombalurina shot back. "Just like we've been practicing for the music department showcase!"

They continued to argue until the doors open and seating began. Tugger liked to wind his female classmates up and argue with them. Flirting was good too, but it just didn't build up the same level of sexual tension. He wasn't really interested in Bombalurina or any of the girls (and occasionally guys) he had met at the school anyway. They were fun to string along, but relationships weren't really his style. Flirting, and perhaps a one night stand here and there were as far as he was willing to go.

Art school hadn't been somewhere Tugger had expect to end up, but there he was, in his second year, majoring in songwriting. Originally he had wanted to try to make it with the band he had started in high school, but that had fallen apart a few months before graduation. He had wanted to try going solo then, but his mother had pushed him to apply to the same school is older half brother was studying Theatre at. He had told his mother he would stay for one year before leaving to start his real music career, but in the end he had stayed. Although he would never admit it to his mother or brother, they had been right, the school was a good place for him. Classes weren't so bad, and his compositions were improving. Maybe burning a few years to get a degree actually would help him on his path to becoming a rockstar.

"Can we leave after your cousin does her piece?" Tugger asked Bomb after giving the program a quick skim.

"No! It would be beyond rude! And they wouldn't let us anyway." Bomb chided. "And besides, Dem's told me some of the freshman this year are really spectacular! I want to see if it's true."

"Fine." Tugger sighed, and the theater light dimmed.

Tugger hadn't actually been to many dance shows before. Sure, his mom had dragged him to some of Munk's plays and sometimes there had been dance in those, but it what he saw now was different. Jazz, Ballroom, Modern, Voguing... He hadn't fully appreciated all the styles of dance for what they were before. He had to admit, Demeter's jazz group piece was pretty impressive. But he found himself forgetting all about it as a small, dark haired freshman clad in black outfit covered in shiny sequins took the stage for a ballet solo and Tugger found himself transfixed.

He had always thought ballet was a slow and boring, but there was nothing boring about the way this boy danced. The easy grace with which he leaped through the air, staying aloft for what seemed like a little too long to be humanly possible. Spinning and spinning on one foot until Tugger though he would surely topple over from dizziness. Tugger found himself utterly entranced by the movements of the boy's seemingly delicate, yet strong and lean limbs. When the dance ended and the boy stepped forward for a bow, Tugger found himself clapping wholeheartedly with the rest of the audience, ignoring the questioning stare Bomb was giving him. As the emcee announced the next performer, Tugger flipped through the program to find the name of the performer he had just watched. Skimming his finger down the page, finally, he found it.

Solo Ballet - "The Magic Within"... Q. Mistoffelees, Freshman

Tugger flipped through the program again, trying to find the performer bios, but they hadn't been included in the program. Maybe he should ask Demeter about this Mistoffelees guy. Something about him had intrigued Tugger. But at the same time he didn't want Bomb or Dem to know how entranced he had been by the boys performance; it would mess with the image of himself he had built up around the school. Then again- judging by the look Bomb was giving him as he stared at the page of the program - maybe she had already figured out that someone had sparked his interest.

"Let's go!" Bomb said, jabbing tugger as the final curtain call finished.

"What? Go where?"

"Backstage!" Bomb replied rolling her eyes. "To see Demeter."

"Oh! Right, let's go!" Tugger agreed, perhaps a little overenthusiastically. Maybe he could catch a chat with Q. Mistoffelees if they were lucky.

On their way down the backstage hall, Tugger tried to discreetly peek into the dressing room with a sign that said _Ballet,_ but to his dismay, there was no one there.

"You were great, Dem!" Bomb exclaimed when they reached the jazz dressing rooms, hugging her cousin.

"Yeah," Tugger said. "Great moves."

"Try to forgive him for the lack of enthusiasm." Bomb told Dem. "He was enthralled by that ballet solo and forgot everything else. Seems that guy really captured our Tugger's attention."

"Not you too!" Demeter cried, pretending to be outraged. "None of the professors shut up about those freshman siblings - apparently, they're like former child prodigies or something- Victoria and Quaxo Mistoffelees, the darlings of the dance department. And their both triple majoring in Ballet, Modern, _and _Jazz! You'd think a double major would be enough, but not for them, apparently!" Demeter paused and took a breath. "I don't mean to sound bitter. Vick's actually super sweet- nobody's gotten a word out of her brother though, he only seems to talk to his sister and answer the professors when they ask him questions."

"Really?" Bomb asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I guess this one won't be as easy as that sophomore you banged last week."

"All I did was take her out for drinks." Tugger lied, elbowing Bomb in the side.

"Whatever."

"So, Demeter, do you have any classes with, uh, Quaxo?" The unusual name felt stange in Tuggers mouth, but he supposed he would get used to it.

"With Misto? No, but I did last term. Teacher never praised anyone else in the class." Demeter told them, shrugging.

"What's with the nickname?" Tugger asked. "I thought you said he only talked to his sister?"

"It's what Vick calls him, just rubbed off on me I guess." Demeter explained. "Also I tried calling him Quack as a joke once and Vick nearly punched me for it. She seems a little… protective of her brother."

"Isn't it confusing if he goes by his last name when they're siblings and they both have the same last name?" Tugger wondered aloud.

"No, because everyone calls her by her first name." Demeter snapped. "And who are you to talk? You have a sibling and go by your last name too!"

"_Half-sibling, _Munkustrap and I have different dads and different last names." Tugger corrected tersely. "And you'd go by your last name too if your idiot of a dad had named you after his favorite drink."

**That's it for now, please review and tell me what you think! You can also find on tumblr transmisto**


	2. Nobody Shyer

**Thanks HorseLULU for the review! I'm happy you thought the last part was funny!**

**This chapter is mostly setting up misto and vic as characters - apologies in advance for any ballet ****inaccuracy****\- I took a few classes like 8 years ago and tried to research a bit for this chap but there are probably still some inaccuracies TT**

"Ready- Across the floor- Five, six, seven, eight…"

Misto took a quick breath and began the sequence. Dancing usually came naturally to him, just like breathing or walking. From the time he and Vick were young it had always been like that- eat, sleep, breath, dance. The natural order of things.

"Yes, Mr. Mistoffelees, yes Victoria, like that!" Misto heard the professor's voice at the back of his mind as he reached the end of the combo. "Everyone, watch how they move their feet and try to imitate! Try to match their speed! You two, can you demonstrate the combo again for everyone else?"

They nodded together and danced back across the floor, two slender figures, one black and one white, in perfect synch.

When the professor motioned for the next pair to try the combo, Misto went to the wall to grab his water bottle for a quick drink. The combo had a lot of leaps and turns- and while he could easily keep up, it was thirsty work. Besides, he knew from years of experience that hydration was necessary for peak performance. Victoria, on the other hand, had stayed where she was and watched their classmates, giving advice and critique to each group as soon as they finished, just like she always did. Unlike his sister, Misto preferred to keep to himself. He preferred to watch from the side as Victoria demonstrated a tour jete for the rest of the class, her lines perfect, as ever.

They went through a few more combos, then the class was over. As they were packing up their bags, the professor's voice cut through the room.

"Remember- next class we are going to be working on lifts!"

Misto felt himself freeze. Lifts. His big weakness. After dancing for so long Misto was very aware of his body- aware of how small he was compared to most male dancers, heck, plenty of the girls in their class were taller than him! No matter how much he hated it, it couldn't be helped. He knew he had hit his last growth spurt at 14, and five feet and four inches was all the height he would get. Sometimes he wondered if it could have been different if he could've just- but there was no point thinking about it now.

Misto could only hope that he could get away with partnering with his sister every class they practiced lifts. As twins they were almost exactly the same size, and he had practiced lifts with Victoria plenty of times before. While their lifts weren't as good as their other skills, he was still pretty good at lifts when his partner was his sister. But he didn't think the professor would let them get away with sticking to one partner the entire class.

"Wanna head back to the dorm?" Misto asked after finding Victoria packing her things.

"Actually I told Plato I'd grab a snack with him. Wanna come?" She told him, not looking up from her bag.

"Who?"

Victoria straightened herself and gave him a disbelieving look.

"We've been in two classes with him for the past three months. Please don't tell me you somehow haven't learned his name."

"I'll pass." Misto told her, shrugging off her disapproval.

"It wouldn't kill you to make a few friends, you know." His sister murmured.

"Yes it would." Victoria didn't laugh at his joke.

"Misto that isn't even funny coming from you!" She paused, as if expecting him to agree to come, then relented when Misto remained silent. "Fine. Whatever. I won't force you. See you at the dorm later I guess."

"Yeah, see you." Misto echoed, then turned to go as he saw one of the guys in their class approaching as if to join the conversation.

It wasn't the first time Victoria had tried to get him to talk to other people. She had been doing that since they started school, but Misto still didn't see why she bothered. He was happy just to dance; he had never been good at talking to people anyway. Besides, Victoria and everyone else had met each other over the summer while he was at home recovering from surgery. It would be weird for him to break into their circle now, when everyone else was already so close.

As he arrived back at the dorm he and Victoria shared, Misto found that upcoming lifts lesson still weighed heavily on his mind. Maybe he would get Victoria to practice with him later. He plopped down of his bed and stared up at the ceiling, mentally rehearsing all the lifts they had ever practiced in his head. As his eyes drifted to the wall, he noticed a mark on calender and remembered.

Groaning, Misto rolled off the bed and two the mini fridge. After finding what he needed, he grabbed a syringe from his drawer and loaded it with clear liquid from the vial he had gotten out of the the fridge. He sat himself in his desk chair, rolled up his left pant leg and carefully positioned the tip of the needle against his thigh. He took a quick, deep breath, then pressed the needle into his glut and injected himself. Sighing, he removed the needle and patted down the injection site with alcohol.

While still not quite easy, giving himself the injection was a lot less harder than it used to be. Over time, he had grown accustomed to it. Once he cleaned up and safely disposed of the syringe, he lay back on his bed again and allowed himself to doze off into a nap. Class had been more tiring than he was willing to admit.

A few hours later, the sound of Victoria unlocking the door woke him. Yawning, he sat himself up to greet her.

"How was your snack?" He asked.

"It was nice! Plato told me about how he started dancing. He's only been in ballet for five years! Whenever I hear stories like that I'm always so impressed- we're so lucky to have started at 5, they say it's much harder to learn after puberty-"

"That's nice." Misto said before she could continue. "Wanna get dinner? I'm starving."

"I'm not that hungry but sure, I'll go with you." Victoria agreed. "Did you remember to take your shot?"

"Yeah." Misto said, standing up. "Thanks for reminding me."

"We'll start with a simply arabesque into fish lift. How many of you have tried that before?"

Misto breathed. That one, at least, was easy. He and his sister had practiced it plenty of times before. Looking around, he saw more than half of the people in the class were raising their hands.

"Okay, great." The professor said. "We're a little short on guys in this class, so that means you gentlemen will get extra practice as you'll need to work with more than one partner today."

Misto glanced around, taking in the reactions of the other guys in the class. Some were grumbling at the idea of extra work, some looked excited, while most of those who hadn't done lifts before looked apprehensive.

"Mr. Mistoffelees, Victoria, can you demonstrate first for those who are trying this for the first time?"

They both nodded, perfectly in synch with each other as usual. Misto stepped behind his sister as she lifted her leg back into an arabesque, then he reached his right arm around her waist to her hip and held her thigh with his left, exhaled, and lifted. Flawless as ever, when her foot left the floor Victoria gracefully brought her toe to her back knee.

"Good! Yes, like that!" Maybe Misto was overthinking it, but the professor's praised sounded less enthusiastic than usual. Maybe it was just because the lift wasn't as natural for Misto to perform than other moves. Mind still reeling with doubts, Misto set his sister back down. "Everyone else try now!"

"Uh, Quaxo?" Misto blinked at surprise at the sound of his first name, turning to find on of the girl in the class. "Do you mind partnering me?"

Knowing he couldn't refuse without drawing unwanted attention, Misto nodded.

As he stepped next to her he couldn't help but notice that she was taller than him by a few inches. That didn't help his nerves at all. Trying to stay calm, feeling Victoria's eyes on him, he positioned his hands for the lift once the girl was in her arabesque. It was hard not to be affected by how different she was from his sister. Victoria's more delicate legs had been easier to hold than this girl's comparatively more muscular thigh. The moment he began to lift he could feel that it was going quite right, he felt her leg almost begin to slide as he held her. Fortunately, he managed to prevent it from slipped and held her in the air for a few moments before setting her down.

"Can we try again?" The girl asked. "I don't think my leg position was quite right."

Misto shrugged in agreement and stepped back to her side. It was easier the second time, now that he knew what to expect. He got her up without any feeling of possible sliding and in the end it almost felt as good as the lfit he had done with his sister.

"Alright!" The professor's voice cut through the noise of practice. "You all seem to have gotten the hang of the basic one, let's try something a little more complex. We'll stick with fish, but this time the girls will do a few steps first then try leaping into it. Ladies, here's what you're going to do."

Watching the professor, Misto knew Victoria would have no trouble with her part. They had practiced this too, but Misto wasn't as confident with it. Nevertheless, he met Victoria's eyes and nodded when she gave him a look to ask if he was ready.

Watching her carefully as she did a simple turn before the leap, he was ready for her when she jumped. He caught her thigh in the right place at the right moment, secured his other arm around her waist, and the rest was easy. Setting Victoria down, he heard the girl from before step forward, probably to ask if he could partner her again. Fortunately, Victoria cut in before she spoke.

"Sorry Cassandra, I want to try it again, something seemed a little off about that one." Victoria said quickly.

"It looked great to me!" The girl, Cassandra, said.

"I just won't feel right if I don't do one more to make sure it's good. Are you ready, Misto?"

He nodded and got back into position and watched for his moment as she turned and then leaped. This time the catch did feel a little more secure, maybe Victoria hadn't just been asking to practice again for his benefit. Setting his sister down, he realized that it hadn't really delayed the inevitably, he would still have to practice with Cassandra.

"Can I try now?"

Misto nodded, and motioned for her to start. He was sure to watch her just as close as he had watched his sister, but it didn't really help. Cassandra's leg wasn't where he expected it to be when she threw it back and he couldn't catch her thigh.

"Can we try again?" Cassandra asked after she managed to land on her feet.

Misto nodded, mentally cursing his mistake.

He knew where her leg would be this time, so catching wasn't where they failed. Even though he had lifted her moments before, he still wasn't accustomed to her weight. Within moments, it became evident that his arms weren't going to hold it. As hard as he tried to stay strong, Cassandra's thigh still slipped out as his arm dropped under the weight.

"Strong! Stay strong!" Misto heard the professor shout at them from the other side of the room.

He felt like a failure.

"You haven't had as much time to work on lifts as other skills, it's understandable that it wasn't perfect." Victoria said, trying to comfort him as they walked back to the dorm after class.

"Dropping someone is a lot worse than not perfect." Misto argued.

"You didn't drop me though!"

"I've dropped you plenty of times when we practice."

"Not today though." She countered. "Today we were good."

"Yes, I only seem to be able to do if you're there to help me." He said shortly.

"You helped me as much as I helped you!" She reminded him. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Lifts are a lot more challenging for you physically than for the other guys. And even though you're at a disadvantage you're still doing great! It's just harder because you're-"

"I don't want to talk about this." Misto cut her off.

**That's all for now! please review and thank you for reading!**

**You can find me on tumblr transmisto**


	3. No

**Here we are with chapter 3! Thanks HorseLULU for the review :) all will be clear in time.**

Over the next week, the dance showcase stuck in Tugger's head, despite how much he tried to move on from it. No matter what he did, no matter who he flirted with, who he argued with, or even who he slept with, Quaxo Mistoffelees never left his mind. In the end, he decided to stop fighting it and began relentlessly searching for a way to run into the illusive Mr. Mistoffelees.

At first, Tugger took to the internet to see how far he could get cyber stalking. He also thought that maybe if he found out everything there was to know about Mistoffelees through the internet he would lose interest and be able to move on with his life. But unfortunately, he couldn't seem to find much of anything about Mistoffelees online. He found his social media accounts, but they were all set to private so he could only see his profile picture. When he tried google, there was nothing on Quaxo Mistoffelees. He found several articles on the sister, as well as another girl with the last name Mistoffelees- probably another sibling or a cousin or something- Tugger guessed, but he found nothing on Quaxo Mistoffelees no matter how deep he delved into the internet.

"Tugger are you feeling well?" Bomb's voice brought him back to reality.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, glancing up from his phone.

"Excetera asked me if you were sick. She told me in class you ignored everyone and spent the whole period on your phone." Bomb said accusingly.

Tugger gave a noncommittal shrug and looked back down at the dance department web page he had been searching for info on Mistoffelees.

"What are you so absorbed in that you ignore the girls AND the professor to spend a whole class on your phone?" Before he could brush her away, Bombalurina stepped in and looked over Tugger's shoulder and down at his phone. "The _ballet department website?_ You're not STILL obsessing over that guy we saw in the showcase, are you? It's been a week! It's not like you to obsess over someone for this long! Haven't there been any new favorites from class that have caught your interest? What about Electra? You were flirting with her the day before we saw the showcase and-"

"I'm bored of her." Tugger cut her off. "Bored of all of them really. They all flirt the same way 'Tugger this', 'Tugger that,' it's gotten dull."

Bomb rolled her eyes. "So cyber stalking some freshman you don't even know for a week straight is more riveting than getting out and meeting some new people."

"I meet new people all the time. I'm over it." Seeking a way to get out of the conversation, Tugger glanced around and spotted the building they were passing. "Anyway, gotta go. To the library, studying, you know."

"What!" Bomb shouted after him as he dashed away.

Entering the library, Tugger realized that he didn't actually know what he was going to do there. For a moment he thought about going outside and finding somewhere better, but then he remembered that Bomb was out there and he didn't want to deal with her in that moment. At least, figured, he could find somewhere to continue his online investigation where he wouldn't be disturbed.

The library was more crowded than he expected, probably because it wasn't a place he usually spent much time in. There were no empty chairs or study rooms on the first or the second floor, so he went up. Everywhere was either full or in an unappealing open area. Maybe he should just find some place on the floor between the bookshelves in a section nobody visited to sit. The problem was, he didn't know which sections people frequented and which were usually deserted. He ended up wandering aimlessly through the shelves, turning the other way whenever he saw someone. Until he saw the very person he had been searching for online.

Turning into the J section of a set of shelves on the third floor, he saw Mistoffelees himself. Not noticing Tugger, Misto was scanning one of the upper shelves, intently focused on whatever book he was searching for. Transfixed, Tugger watched how his eyes widened as he found the book he must have been looking for. He watched as Mistoffelees graceful extended an arm to get the book, how he lifted onto the balls of his feet, only to still be unable to reach the book on the third shelf from the top. This was just the sort of situation Tugger had been hoping for. A situation where he could easily make a move. He cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Want a hand?"

Mistoffelees' head whipped to face his direction and for a what seemed like a long moment they locked eyes in silence. Tugger drank in all of the features of the younger man's face - the softness of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes- He stared intently as Misto's lips moved to form one word.

"No."

Tugger blinked in confusion. He had been confident he would get more than this, a short conversation, perhaps even a phone number if he played his cards right. Never in all his many flirtations since he had came to university had be been turned down so quickly and abruptly. Thinking he might be able to still get something, he opened his mouth to ask another question, perhaps to ask what book Mistoffelees was grabbing and why he needed it. But Misto was already walking away from him. Tugger tried to follow, but he lost Mistoffelees in the maze of bookshelves in a matter of seconds.

"I want to take a dance class." Tugger said, trying to sound casual as he ate lunch with Bombalurina and Demeter the next day.

"It's the middle of the semester!" Bomb pointed out.

"Not a _class class_, one of those drop in classes they have that are open to everyone. You know, the ones they mention like twenty times during freshman orientation." Tugger explained.

"Misto is a dance _major_, you won't find him in a open level class." Bomb shot back.

"I know that!" Tugger said. "It'll give me an excuse to be in the dance building and conveniently coincidently run into him."

"You want to take a dance class so you can stalk some freshman you've never spoken to." Bomb said sceptically.

"I spoke to him yesterday!"

"What?" Demeter cried in astonishment. "I've had multiple classes with him and he hasn't said a word to me. How on earth did you get him to talk to you?"

"I saw him in the library yesterday and asked if he needed help reaching a book." Tugger recounted proudly. "And he told me, 'no'."

Bomb and Demeter exchanged a glance with each other and began to laugh. Tugger couldn't help but feel mildly offended that they found his recent success to be so humorous.

"I suppose one word is more than I've gotten from him." Demeter said when she managed to stop laughing. "Look Tugger, if you're really that desperate, I'll have a chat with Vick. She's been trying to get her brother out to make more friends, so maybe we can work something out."

"You would do that for me?" Tugger asked, smiling widely. "Thanks a million, Dem."

**That's all for now! please favorite and review!**

**you can find me on tumblr transmisto**


	4. Walk on the Narrowest Rail

"Alright, that's it for class today." At the professor's words, everyone immediately moved towards the cubbies at near the door of the studio for their bags. "Wait a minute- I have a quick announcement before we go."

Misto suppressed a sigh- it was the middle of the week and he was exhausted. All he wanted was to go back to the dorm and sleep.

"All of you are Ballet majors, right?" Everyone in the room nodded. "The department decided last week that we're changing a policy, men and women will now have the same course requirements. Ladies, you don't need to worry too much, your requirements will stay the same. Guys, the major change is all of you will have to start training en pointe. Have any of you done pointe work before?"

Misto hesitantly raised his hand. Glancing around he saw that there was only one other guy in the class with his hand in the air.

The professor looked at them and gave an approving nod. "Good. The two of you won't be starting from scratch. Do either of you have shoes? I'd like you both to come by studio 201 Friday so we can see what you've got."

Misto was shaking his head when he heard Victoria speak up from behind him. "Misto can borrow some of my pointe shoes, we're the same size."

"Great, thank you, Victoria." The professor said warmly. "Admetus, try to get fitted for some this week and let me know when you've got them."

Sighing as everybody turned back to pack up their things, Misto went to the professor to arrange a time to meet. As he walked past Victoria they made eye contact and he did his best to look betrayed.

"I'm probably going to ruin your shoes, you know." Misto huffed as they walked back to their dorm.

"You won't. We have the same feet." Vick insisted.

"So? We don't dance _exactly _the same." Misto insisted.

"It'll probably be fine." Victoria shrugged. "I don't care if my shoes get ruined anyway."

"You should," Misto scolded. "Pointe shoes are expensive."

"The dance department issues us as many pairs as we need." Vick stated. "Can we stop pretending this is about the shoes? I know the thought of dancing en pointe again makes you uncomfortable, but it isn't my fault they changed the policy. Besides, all the guys will have to do it. Doesn't that at least make you feel a little better?"

Even though Misto knew she was right, it didn't. After a long pause in the conversation, Victoria accepted that he wasn't going to answer and changed the subject.

"I'm going to hand out with Demeter and her cousin this weekend, and they were hoping you'd come too." Victoria said cautiously.

"Why?" Misto asked. "They don't even know me."

"Why not?" Victoria shot back. "It's always nice to make new friends."

"Not really, but okay." They had disagreed on this point before, and Misto didn't have the heart to get into the argument again. "Just tell them I was busy or something."

"Misto you can't keep isolating yourself forever." Victoria sighed. "Nobody here even knows about you! What are you so afraid of? You can just start over and only let them know what you want them to know."

"And if I make friends like you suggest, how long until someone finds an old dance performance online, or finds my old facebook account?" Misto demanded, feeling hotness grow in his cheeks. "What then, Vick? Distance is the only way I can live my life as myself without having to worry."

"Then why does it feel like you get more worried every day?"

Once again, Misto opted not to answer.

Misto walked into the studio on friday, pointe shoes in hand, trying his best not to stay calm.

"Mistoffelees!" The professor's voice made Misto flinch in surprise. "You're early, that's good. Do you need to warm up, or can we begin?"

Misto had hoped that the teacher wouldn't be already be in the studio. He had hoped for a moment or two to breathe before being put on the spot.

"I already warmed up."

"Perfect!" The teacher's smile sent chills down Misto's spine. "Then go ahead and put the shoes on and we can get started!"

Misto sat down and took Victoria's shoes out of his bag, setting them on the floor beside him as he put on toe pads to protect his feet. He didn't have calluses on his toes anymore, and he knew that would make it harder than it used to be. It was weird feeling his toes slip into the box after such a long time, familiar and alien all at once. Not wanting to dwell on it, tied the ribbons up his ankles, stood up, and walked to the bar.

"So. How much experience do you have with pointe?" The professor asked, eyeing him critically.

"It's been about two years since I last wore pointe shoes." Misto said slowly. "But before that I trained en pointe for about five years."

"Five years!" The professor's eyes widened. "That's unusual for a male dancer."

"I know." Misto said shortly. "Can we get started then?"

"Yes, of course. Let's start simple, I know you're very talented but we don't want to risk injury. Go ahead and hold the bar, second position, and releve up on both feet."

Misto was prepared for the pain, and when it came it wasn't as bad as he had expected. Dancing for so long had given him a good pain tolerance, but that didn't mean it was always easy. It was something he had practiced steeling himself against, practiced putting the pain into the back of his mind so that he could focus on the performance. He hadn't expected to be able to push the pointe pain away again after so much time had passed.

Gradually, he moved on to more difficult exercises until, with the professor's approval, he was doing grande adages, pirouettes, and fouettes. The muscle memory kicked in and it was almost as if no time had passed. As if he was still rehearsing with his sister for the Nutcracker when they were thirteen.

But Misto didn't want to go back to that time and that place. The dance felt good but the memory felt wrong. Wrong like wearing a tutu had felt wrong. He was proud of the person he had become. Even if it was just dance steps, a part of him wanted to push away every bit of the person he had been at thirteen. After one last fouette, he stopped.

"Have you seen enough?" Misto asked, turning to the professor. "Is there anything else you want me to show you?"

"No, I think you've already shown yourself to be quite competent in pointe." The professor told him. "I'll give you department approval to take the advanced class next term. Your basics are more than solid."

"Thank you." Misto nodded, then sat and removed the shoes as quickly as he could.

Victoria was away when he returned to the dorm, which wasn't usual. She was always leaving to hang out with classmates. Misto didn't mind that much, if anything he was grateful she never brought any friends by the dorm out of respect for his privacy. They had always had a good relationship. He had known other siblings to fight, but they never had. Or at least, their arguments never got too heated. For the most part, Misto couldn't imagine having a more supportive and understanding sister. Even when she disagreed, she always respected his boundaries, with most things at least.

The wall above Victoria's bed on her side of the dorm was one thing she hadn't been very understanding about. On that Wall Victoria had posted countless old photos and news articles from nearly every recital and performance they had had growing up. Misto had told her he didn't like seeing them. "_They're important memories to me." _Victoria had said "_Next year we can get an apartment off campus with separate bedrooms. Then you won't have to look at them. But until then, can't you tolerate it? I like to look back and remember how far we've come."_

In the end, Misto hadn't been able to get her to take them down. There were times, such as the present, where he was tempted to rip them down himself. Instead he just fell down onto his bed and turned his back to Victoria's memory wall and tried to block out the past from his mind.


	5. Like to get about

Tugger woke early on Saturday morning after a restless night. Unlike his usual restless nights, there was no one else in the bed. Instead, nerves had kept him awake. The little windows of sleep he had managed to find had been plagued by dreams where he chased Mistoffolees through the library, down a hall, through a busy street, only for Tugger to wake up just as he was finally catching up.

Even upon waking, Tugger struggled to find his usual confidence. He found his eyes flicking between the five leather jackets he owned, trying to figure out which one Mistoffelees would find the most appealing. Why did he own so many leather jackets? If he just had one there wouldn't be a decision to struggle with, time wouldn't be whittling away, the sun wouldn't be steadily becoming brighter and brighter in his window. The sun. What an idiot he was; wearing a leather jacket would absurd in this weather. Mentally kicking himself, Tugger threw on something more weather-appropriate and headed out the door to the cafe where he was meeting Bombalurina, Demeter, and hopefully the Mistoffolees twins.

They were in at a table in the back corner of the cafe, half hidden from Tugger's view when he arrived. As he ordered himself a coffee he could only see Bomb and Demeter's backs, the other side of the table, where he assumed the object of his infatuation was sitting, was hidden from him. It was hard to resist craning his neck to catch a glimpse, but Tugger was still in control of himself enough to know that that would look ridiculous. Instead, he anxiously watched the barista as they made his latte, wondering why they couldn't pour the milk faster. Finally, cup in hand, he made his way to his friends.

Mr. Mistoffelees was not there. Victoria was the only person sitting across from Bomb and Dem. Disappointment hit Tugger like a ton of bricks.

"You made it." He heard Bomb's voice call out to him through the cloud of disappointment which had enveloped him. His former Enthusiasm gone, he took a seat beside her. "This is Victoria, Demeter's friend."

It was weird to be introduced so formally to someone he knew of but had not officially met. Usually he would just saunter up to someone he had heard about and start flirting, but lately he had been straying further and further away from his usual behaviors.

"Hey. I'm Tugger." He said, distracted by how closely Victoria resembled her brother. They were nearly identical, the only real difference was how Victoria was pale where her brother was dark, as if someone had cloned him using a human printer but the ink had run out. He found his eyes lingering on her features, enthralled by the way they conjured up images of her brother in his mind.

"Nice to meet you." Her the slight shortness of her tone told him she must have been somewhat of his reputation. "Can you stop looking at me like that? I know albinism is rare but I really don't like being stared at."

"Oh! My bad, sorry." Tugger said quickly. He hadn't really thought about her being albino, but it was easier to just pretend he had rather than admit that his fixation with her stemmed from his infatuation with her brother. "So uh, will your brother be coming later?"

"Tugger is quite taken with him." Bomb fake-whispered mischievously before Tugger could kick her under the table in an attempt to shut her up.

Victoria sighed and shook her head. Tugger's stomach plummeted. He looked down into his coffee, significantly less interested in hanging out now that he knew Mistoffelees was not coming. Then he felt a sharp elbow to the ribs and quickly looked up to find Victoria's hard eyes fixed upon him.

"Why," she began, speaking dangerously slow. "Are you so interested in my brother?"

Tugger wanted to kick Bomb for her earlier comment, but felt unable to move under Victoria's accusatory gaze.

"Surely you aren't planning on making him one of your… conquests."

"No, no! Of course not!" Tugger replied quickly, mentally cursing his reputation. "I just- well, I… I…".

Realizing he was speaking nonsense, he paused and took a deep breath to collect himself.

"I saw his performance at the showcase. I always thought ballet was a bit boring, but seeing him dance really changed my mind." As Victoria's eyes began to soften relief washed over Tugger. "Singing is different than dancing, but it's still performing. As a singer, as a performer, I just want to meet anyone who… whose performance can make such an impact on me."

Tugger felt self conscious as he finished speaking, feeling as if he might have revealed too much of himself, but Victoria and the others were smiling.

"My brother often has that effect on people." Victoria's voice was full of pride. "He has no idea how charming he can be. I can never convince our parents to do anything, but Misto is different. When we were kids he found a litter of kittens under an old hat at the dump, and somehow he managed to convince our parents to keep all seven of them!"

The conversation devolved into Victoria showing them pictures of the cats from her phone and giving anecdotes about each of them. Tugger listened eagerly, desperate to take in every detail remotely related to Mr. Mistoffelees.

Munkustrap was leaning against his apartment door, looking disappointed when Tugger got home hours later. His brother seemed to be disappointed with him every time Tugger saw him; he was beginning to forget what Munk's normal face looked like.

"You have to stop forgetting everytime we make a plan to get dinner." Munk chided as Tugger unlocked his apartment door.

"Sorry bro, I was out with friends and lost track of time."

"Out with 'friends'" Munk's tone made it clear he thought Tugger had been doing something else, or rather, someone else.

"Honest, I was at a cafe with Bomb and Dem and some freshman." Tugger argued, opening the door.

"This place is a mess." Munk wrinkled his nose as he stepped in the door. "Some freshman- Tugger I know you know better than taking advantage of someone young and naive- If I find out you're doing anything wrong, I won't hesitate to report you, brother or no."

"Giving me the benefit of the doubt as always," Tugger said with rueful sarcasm. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in her. I-" Tugger thought about whether or not it was worth revealing his feelings to his brother to shake off any accusations. "I'm interested in her brother. Not as a fling or anything, I haven't felt this way in… I just haven't felt this way before."

Munkustrap raised his eyebrows. "So then, who is this guy?"

"A freshman in the dance department. I saw him in the showcase. His twin is friends with Dem, so I was hoping he'd come along to hang out today, but he didn't." Tugger explained, trying to be vague.

"Quaxo Mistoffelees."

Tugger sighed heavily, then perked up realizing what his brother's recognition might mean.

"Do you know him?

"Not really, but his sister teaches the beginner modern dance class I've been taking. Sometimes he comes to meet her after class." Munk shrugged.

"Since when are you taking dance classes?" Tugger teased.

"I'm a musical theater major, it helps to know how to dance for that." Munk said with exasperation.

"So…" Tugger began awkwardly. "Can I start coming with you to dance class?"


	6. of his own bat

"You would've had fun." Victoria told Misto for what felt like the millionth time.

"I don't like meeting new people." Misto told her again.

"That's ridiculous! Even if it is awkward at first you'll warm up!" She rolled her eyes at Misto's unconvinced expression. "Bomb's friend was really disappointed you didn't come! He saw your performance at the showcase and now he's your fan."

"So?" Misto shrugged. "Why should I care?"

"Someday, you're going to realize how right I am about this." Victoria told him patronizingly. "Whatever. Let's go to jazz."

Jazz class was the same as it always was when there weren't any upcoming performance. The instructor gave them a combo and they drilled in until everyone had close to perfected it.

Misto didn't like learning the combos the instructor put together in class very much. Once he had reached a certain level of skill, he had begun to see more and more things he wanted to change in the sets of movement instructors gave him. While there were things in the instructor's combo he liked, he kept noticing parts he wanted to tweak. Switch out the chest isolation for something else, but a different pose after the spin, they weren't big things, but they also weren't insignificant. He understood the value of studying other people's styles, but in the moment he felt like he was wearing someone else's uncomfortable, ill-fitting clothes.

Misto had always wanted to create for himself, not simply act as a tool for others to express their own creations through. Suddenly, he had a wild, unconventional, ridiculous idea. Something he was sure no one had done before. He knew he had to try it. It combined everything that felt wrong, returning to pointe after so many years, his failed lift attempts, and put it together in a way that felt right. A way that might finally put him at ease.

"This is crazy and dangerous and a very bad idea." Victoria told him matter-of-factly after Misto explained what he wanted to attempt. "I wouldn't have come with you to the studio if you had explained what you had in mind."

Misto had purposefully been vague when he had told her he had booked a studio for practice. He hadn't wanted to risk her turning him down too quickly.

"No one has ever done it before. If we do, we'll become legendary. Imagine everyone's faces if we can pull this off for the next showcase."

Victoria frowned, still unconvinced. "Imagine everyone's faces if you break your ankle on stage. And it has been done, just by Cirque du Soleil rather than a ballet company."

"Oh." Misto felt a bit less excited upon realizing his idea wasn't as original as he though. "In what show?"

"Dralion." Victoria shrugged "The ballet on lights. It's a retired act now, but it was in the video version."

As the memory came back to him, Misto became sure he could do it. "Then we know it can be done. If they can make a human tower, then surely I can pick you up!"

"They weren't wearing normal pointe shoes." Victoria said, unconvinced. "They has rubber rings on the toes to help with balance. On normal shoes it would be a lot harder."

"The rings were just there so they could balance on the light bulbs. Anyway, when have I ever failed at something I put my mind to?" Misto could see the conviction in her face soften a tiny bit. If he pushed more, he knew he could convince her. "And I'll be the one at risk anyway, it's my body, let me do it."

"But… you only just came back to pointe last week." Victoria said slowly. "Shouldn't you at least wait until you're more confident with it?"

"Maybe this is what I need to gain confidence." He paused, searching his mind for the words that would convince her. "Remember all the times we tried stuff are teachers said we weren't ready for when we were kids? This is the same. Let's show the world what we can do."

"...fine." Victoria gave in after a long silence. "But let's be careful, okay?"

"Of course." Misto replied, knowing that what they were trying was the opposite of careful.

They did some pointe warm ups first, starting slow with relevés then moving on to harder things. Misto could feel his sister's eyes upon him, so he was careful to do everything perfectly, not wanting to give her a reason to back out.

From there they went on to practice lifts, which Misto was significantly less confident about. Even so, in his state of extreme determination he didn't falter. Working with his sister always felt natural anyway. They could do this. He could feel in his bones that they could do this.

They started with a basic fish lift. Once Victoria was in her arabesque and ready to lift, Misto rolled up onto pointe. Immediately, he realized being slightly higher than usual would make lifting a lot more awkward.

"Uh, I think it'll work better if I roll up after I lift." He said when his sister gave him a questioning glance.

"Okay, if you're sure." She shrugged.

He placed his heels back on the ground and positioned his hands around her for the lift. He gave her a moment to bring her bottom toe to her knee, then took a deep breath and rolled up onto his toes. Immediately, Misto felt a significant strain on his feet, but it was easy to brush away in the excitement of success.

"Does it feel okay?" He heard Victoria ask.

"Fine." Misto lied. "I bet we could do it with the leap. We could revolutionize pas de deux."

"Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves." Victoria said as he set her down. "Maybe we should stop here for today."

"No, let's at least try it with you leaping into it." Misto argued. "I really think I can do it."

"Okay. If you're sure." Victoria smiles. "It is exciting to press the boundaries of what is expected."

Misto rolled up onto his toes and gave Victoria a nod to indicate he was ready. She did a small turn, stepped, and leaped.

Despite the fact that that Misto stood higher than usual, he caught her thigh and waist in the right places. The impact of her weight in his arms was much more intense this time. He knew his ankles couldn't take the extra weight, a few seconds longer and he knew he would snap something. He acted out of instinct, and out of self-preservation. He did the only thing that could save his feet; he dropped his sister.

As soon as he heard her cry out upon landing he knew he had made a horrible mistake. Falls were fairly common when learning lifts, but injuries still happened. Victoria didn't get up, she remained on the floor clutching her knee in agony. Misto could only look down at her, speechless in horror.

It had been Misto who was supposed to be at risk. It had been his dumb idea, his chance to take, but somehow it had turned out like this. He had failed, perhaps for the first time ever. He had never dropped his sister before. How would she ever trust him again? How would she forgive him?


	7. horrible muddle

"You're sure it won't be weird for me to start now?" Tugger asked Munkustrap nervously as they made their way to the dance building.

"Nah, there are drop-ins all the time, since Victoria is a popular teacher." His brother assured him. "Most are only there because they think she's cute and don't come back when they realize it's an actual serious class, but she's always polite to them anyway. There are a lot of regulars too though."

"Okay," Tugger muttered, half in answer to his brother and half to reassure himself. He felt distinctly awkward in his joggers and tank top. It was different than his usual gym clothes and considerable less eye catching than his everyday where. In a way, he felt naked without the carefully constructed image he usual create through his clothing. It took more effort to maintain the air of easy confidence he took pride in projecting, especially when walking through the dance building, doing something he would never have considered just a few months ago.

"We're here." Munkustrap told him, nodding to a door. Eyes fixed on the back of his brothers head, Tugger followed him into the studio, mirroring him in setting his bag and water bottle down in a cubby shelf at the front of the room.

"We usually stretch and warm up by ourselves a little before Victoria comes." Munkustrap explained. "You chat with some of the others if you-" he paused, seeing the look on Tugger's face and correctly interpreting it as a no, "Or we could just stretch together over there I guess." Munkustrap featured to an empty corner of the room and Tugger nodded.

When it came to dancing, Tugger felt lost. He had taken a dance class freshman year for a gen ed, but he hadn't paid much attention during it and had probably only passed because he had been sleeping with the TA. Maybe if he had taken it more seriously then he would feel more confident now. If he made a fool of himself, he might ruin Victoria's impression of him. If he seemed like a natural, maybe she would mention him to her brother, or maybe Mistoffelees might pop in during class to see his sister and be impressed by Tugger. It felt like a make or break moment. Looking around the studio, it was clear that practically everyone there was more flexible and had better coordination than he did. Maybe the best he could do was not embarrass himself too much.

Watching the clock above the mirror tick closer and closer to the class' start time, Tugger wondered whether Victoria was usually a bit late to her own class. He wished that she would hurry and arrive so he could stop feeling like he had to hold his breath as he waited for class to start. Just a minute before class was supposed to begin, Tugger noticed a figure through the frosted glass door of the studio. _Finally,_ he thought to himself. But when the door opened it wasn't Victoria. It was her brother.

Misto cleared his throat to catch the attention of the rest of the room, waiting until everyone fell silent to speak.

"My sister, uh, can't come this week." He told the room at large. The other students turned to each other to exchange looks. In contrast to Tugger's own shock and excitement, the other students seemed a bit disappointed. "So I'll be subbing for until she's, er, able to come back."

"Why can't she teach us?" Someone asked.

"Will she be back next week or will it be longer?" Another person called from the back of the room.

"I don't know when she'll be able to come back." Misto said, ignoring the first questioned. "Anyway, everyone find a space facing the mirror, it's time to warm up."

Still talking softly to each other, the students fell into their places in front of the mirror. Tugger was so dazed at Misto's sudden appearance and the thrill of finally hearing him say more than a single word that he didn't notice he was standing too close to someone until they asked him to move. Embarrassed, he shuffled into place.

The warmup was harder than Tugger had imagined it would be. He was in shape, but the fast and precise movements Misto led them through had him feeling oafish and clumsy. He felt like an idiot. At least he was close to the back, where Misto couldn't really see his failures.

It got even worse when they moved into stretching. It was any area of fitness that Tugger had never really thought was important enough to practice. Lunges that the other students seemed to find easy made his quads ache, and that was just the beginning of it. With every new stretch he felt more and more inadequate. As Misto began walking around the room, inspecting each person as they all held a front split, Tugger took comfort that at least wasn't the only one who couldn't do a full split, even if he was the highest off the floor. At any rate, the ache in his legs made it hard to think too hard about it anyway.

Suddenly, Tugger felt pressure on his back hip and looked up to see Mistoffelees standing over him frowning.

"You're crooked." He said, as if Tugger would know what that meant. Before Tugger could ask him to explain further, he put his foot on Tugger's left buttock and pushed down hard. Tugger had to bite his tongue to keep himself from crying out in pain. "It should be more like this. With both hips pointing forward."

Continuing to bite his tongue, Tugger nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when Misto finally released his ass.

"Alright. Warm up is over." Misto called. "Take a quick water break and then we'll start on today's combo."

Tugger struggled to get up, his legs still aching. Munk found him as he was walking over to the cubbies.

"Judging from the warmup, he's a tougher teacher than his sister." Munkustrap commented, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is it too hard for you? Do you regret coming?"

"Are you kidding?" Tugger laughed. "I've been trying to track Mistoffelees down for weeks and I just had the privilege of him almost breaking my legs and telling me my ass is crooked. I'm definitely coming back next week."

"Victoria might be back by then."

Tugger shrugged.

"Still worth a shot."

The combo Misto taught them was met with failure and frustration from nearly the entire class. Judging from the intense concentration in his brother's expression on the other side of the room, Tugger guessed that it was harder than anything Victoria had ever given the class. Munk and a few other students managed to keep up while missing some of the tricky moves, whereas Tugger and everyone else became flailing messes just trying to keep up. When Misto turned to watch instead of dance it with them, Tugger couldn't help but notice how his mouth tightened in displeasure as he observed their sad attempts to replicate his precise grace. No matter how many times Misto gave corrections and they went through it again, the class just couldn't seem to get it. The closest thing anyone got to praise was when Misto told Munkustrap and some of the other students in the front that they were "starting to grasp the basics." Everyone has exhausted and swimming in sweat, but none of them could seem to get it.

"We're out of time." Misto finally called out when Tugger felt as if he might collapse if he attempted the combo another time. "Thanks for coming, we'll try again next week I guess."

"I'm going to stay and stretch for a bit, would you like to join me?" Munkustrap asked as they waited for the first wave of people to get their things from the cubbies and leave. Tugger's eyes darted around the room until they came to rest on where Misto was taking the out of the CD player and preparing to leave. Tugger turned back to his brother and shook his head. If Mistoffelees wasn't staying neither was he. He hurried to the cubby where he had stored his bag as soon as the way was clear and hurried out the door, hoping he could catch up.

Fortunately, Misto was only a few yards down the hallway. Quickening his pace, Tugger approached him, hoping it wouldn't seem like he was stalking him. He waited until he was just a few steps behind Misto to speak.

"Hey." Tugger said, trying to sound casual. Misto turned his head sharply to meet him, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Tugger.

"Did you need something?" He asked, nonplussed.

"I just wanted to tell you it was a fun class!" Tugger said, even though painful was probably more accurate. "Will you be teaching again next week?"

"Probably." Misto shrugged, then made to walk away.

"Wait!" Tugger called after him. Misto stopped and looked back at him expectantly. "Are you free now? Would you like to, uh, get coffee or something?"

"I have class in ten minutes." Misto said, and then turned and left.

_Well, it was a lot more than one word this time,_ Tugger thought to himself. _So I guess it counts as progress._


	8. something to learn

"I got you the handouts from Writing 101." Misto told his sister, dropping them on her desk. Victoria was sprawled out on her bed, now wearing a brace around her knee, elevating it with several of her many extra pillows. Misto had told her she had brought too many when they first moved in, but she had always insisted otherwise.

"_We need them for pillow forts."_ Victoria had told him, laughing.

"_We're not kids anymore."_ He had insisted.

"_So?" _Victoria had countered stubbornly. "_That doesn't mean we can't make pillow forts._"

He had given into her giggles and they had spent their first night in college constructing a blanket fort that took up most of their dorm. The memory still made Misto smile. In truth, he knew she hadn't only brought an excess of bedding for fort-making; Victoria was the type to cocoon herself in sleep, always needing a at least two pillows for her head, another to hug, and others to arrange around herself for maximum comfort. Maybe that was part of the reason she slept more soundly than her brother.

"How was the health center appointment?" Misto asked awkwardly. He wondered what she had told the doctor when they had asked how she had messed up her knee.

"I'll need to use those for the next week." She said, gesturing to a pair of crutches leaning against the wall near her bed. "And then wear this brace, take a break from dancing, and go to regular physical therapy sessions for a month. Then I should be fine."

"A month is a long time." Misto murmured. He couldn't imagine how horrible he would feel if it were him. The dance studio was his refuge, and dancing was one of the only ways he could clear his mind. "Have you told the department yet? How will you rehearse for end of year performances?"

"I sent them an email after I got back from the health center." She shrugged. "I'm sure they'll figure it out, the professors are always saying that everyone gets injured sooner or later in this field."

"Even so, it really sucks." Misto said, feeling the guilt creep in. "I'm- I'm really sorry. I shouldn't've asked you to try-"

"I wasn't your fault." Victoria cut him off. "Like I told you before, it's not the end of the world and it isn't your fault." She held his gaze with a determination that shot down any further objections. "Anyway, how subbing my class?"

"All of the students seeming really disappointed that you weren't there." Misto sighed. "And they kept complaining that it was too hard- even though I gave them super easy stuff!"

Victoria laughed.

"They're beginners with zero dance background. They have different definitions of easy than you and me." She explained patiently.

"I made it as easy as I could without it being boring!" Misto insisted. "But they still couldn't keep up! I'm probably going to lose you a lot of students at this rate."

"Good." Victoria said unexpectedly. Misto raised his eyebrows. "I always thought that class was too big anyway. It'll be nice if you weed out the wimps for me."

"Even the almost decent ones probably didn't like the class with me teaching it." Misto said, frowning. "They probably all hated it. I'm really not cut out to be a teacher."

"I'm sure there were at least some people who didn't hate you teaching." Victoria insisted, rolling her eyes.

"Well, maybe like one person I guess." Misto admitted, thinking of the guy who had come up to him after the class. "But no more than that."

"Well, one isn't zero." Victoria said dryly. They both laughed.

Victoria was the type of person that could somehow squash any and all negative feelings in a room when she wanted to. It was hard for him to stay feeling guilty when they laughed together like this, but it still remained in the back of his mind. Facing his dance class tomorrow and having to explain why his sister wasn't there would be hard.

"Misto," Victoria began cautiously, bring him back to their conversation. When he met her eyes he was surprised to see that she seemed apprehensive. "I uh, I invited Plato to come over here tomorrow and watch a movie with me."

It had been an unspoken rule between them that their dorm was a private place. A place where outsiders should not be permitted. Allowing someone else in would be a violation of trust, a desecration of a safe space. Still, Misto felt after recent events it was only right to give his sister some leeway. Even though she would've been right to blame him for her injury, she hadn't. Misto remained silent as she took a breath and continued her point.

"These crutches make leaving really annoying, and it's boring staying up here all by myself while you're off at dance classes I have to sit out on. So it would just be easier if I could hang out with friends here."

What she was saying made sense, but there was still one issue looming over it all. When Victoria looked at him for a response, Misto flicked his eyes to the photos on the wall by her bed.

"Oh! Um, I'll take those down of course." She said quickly, following his gaze. "I uh, probably should've done that a long time ago, shouldn't I."

Misto nodded sharply, then immediately felt bad about it. He should be comforting his sister in her current state rather than calling her out on something like this. He should've just told her that the photos didn't really bother him that much, but maybe it was better that they stayed honest with each other.

"I can still tell Plato to meet me somewhere else." Victoria said softly, calling attention that Misto still hadn't given her his opinion on the main matter at hand.

"No, It's okay." Misto sighed. "He can come here."

He still didn't want anyone else invading their sanctuary, but it the only thing he could think to do for her to make up for all the harm he had caused.

The next day he went back and forth on whether he should absent himself from the dorm that day or whether he should proceed as normal, as if the balance of his wasn't being thrown completely off kilter. He had Jazz and conditioning in the morning, but the rest of his day was free. Typically, he would spend an hour or two of every day practicing on his own, but even so he still reserved a generous chunk of time for escaping the outside world in the comfort of his dorm. Now the barrier that had protected him there no longer existed.

It also felt weird going through his day without his sister by his side. There were still non-dancing, gen ed classes that she could attend while injured, they weren't every day of the week. Conditioning was alright, they didn't really talk much when they worked out anyway, but Misto felt awkward without anyone to talk to or give him opinions in Jazz class. Even though he usually spent about half of his independent practice time by himself anyway, after feeling so lonesome in Jazz, he was so desperate for company afterwards that his solo practice wasn't very productive. He found himself constantly checking his phone, hoping for a text from his sister.

Somehow he hadn't realized how much he really relied upon Victoria until now. He had always thought of himself as a pretty independent person, but without her he felt lost. Maybe he really should try to make friends.

He gave up his practice session earlier than he normally would, recognizing that he was too out of it for it to be worth it. He decided that he would go back to the dorm after all. Maybe he could start on the whole making friends thing by meeting some of his sister's friends. He was still relying on her in a way by finding friends through her, but it was at least a step forward.

On his way back to the dormitory, he saw someone across the road wave at him. At first he thought the guy was looking at someone else, but when he looked behind him he was the only one around. A little nonplussed, he waved back. The guy did look vaguely familiar, maybe they had a class together or something. Misto hadn't really paid enough attention to learn the names or faces of his classmates.

Victoria's face lit up in happy surprise when Misto walked in the door. He smiled back sheepishly. She had been nagging him to meet her friends for a long time, but he had always refused. It was embarrassing to finally swallow his pride and give in to her wishes. Plato was staring at him with a gaping mouth, as if he had teleported into the room instead of walking in.

"What movie are you guys watching?" He asked awkwardly, not really wanting to address their surprise.

"We were thinking about _Mean Girls_!" Victoria said a little too enthusiastically. "But if you want to watch with us we're open to other suggestions!"

"_Mean Girls_ sounds good, it's always nice to rewatch a classic." Misto said quickly. He didn't want the pressure of having to choose a different movie. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Plato a awkwardly held out his hand. "I'm Victoria's brother. You can call me Misto."

"Plato." Plato replied, accepting the handshake. "Nice to meet you."


	9. if you put me in a flat then

Tugger winced as he felt a shudder of soreness pass through his thighs as he lowered himself into the seat next to his brother. After the dance class, Tugger had decided that his brother was a good influence on his life and invited Munkustrap to get lunch with him and Bomb.

"My thighs are killing me." He grunted.

"Rough night?" Bomb ask, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Tugger elected to roll his eyes at her instead of answering the question.

"I remember how I felt after my first day of dance." Munk said sympathetically. "I'm surprised you're walking."

"Have to get places somehow." Tugger grumbled.

"And you still want to come again next week?" Munk laughed.

"Obviously."

"_Dance class_?" Bomb cut in incredulously. "I thought you gave up that stupid idea."

"Turns out it wasn't a stupid idea." Tugger told her. "You failed to so much as get me a glance of Mistoffelees with your apparently not stupid idea, but following Munk to dance class got me the pleasure of meeting the guy in person and getting told my ass is crooked by the man himself."

"He was subbing Vick's class last week." Munk explained quickly upon seeing Bomb's confusion. "Tugger's hip position wasn't great so he had to straighten him out."

"Tugger I know you're trying to live a healthier life or something, but I really think you're wasting your time with this guy." Bomb began with exasperation. "He's never going to give you the time of day. I can set you up with someone if you're looking for something a little, uh, different from your usual, but this Mistoffelees guy is a lost cause. Every time Dem tries to say hi when she sees him with his sister he ignores her, doesn't even acknowledge her existence. He'll do the same to you."

"I don't know about that." Munkustrap cut in. "I saw him across the street from when I was going to class the other day and he waved back at me when I waved. He can't be _that_ asocial. I've only really met him once and he acknowledges _my_ existence."

"See?" Tugger felt himself puff up at his brother's support. "I do have a chance!"

"Munkustrap don't encourage him!"

"Even if you're right and he can't get through to Misto, Tugs will at least have a new hobby to keep him out of trouble if he keeps coming with me to dance." Munkustrap shrugged.

"It's not just a way to talk to Misto." Tugger pointed out. "It's important brotherly bonding time."

Munkustrap laugh and patted him on the back. Maybe there was something more to this than getting Munk's help to get Mistoffelees. Maybe it was nice not have spent most of the weekend nursing hangovers like he usually did, maybe it was healthier. But the underlying cause of his choices remained the fact that he couldn't get Mistoffelees out of his head.

Despite the front of determined persistence Tugger had put on around Bomb and Munk, Tugger was starting to get frustrated. He had gone to the dance class and gotten Misto to talk to him, but apart from waiting until the next class to try talking again, Tugger couldn't think of anything else he could do to progress things. He felt impatient. He felt restless. Nothing he usually did had the same savor. Playing guitar felt boring, and when he tried to write a song there was no inspiration to be found. He jumped from activity to activity, but nothing could distract him from Misto. Eventually, his apartment began to feel suffocating so he left to wander the campus.

The first place he ended up was the dance building. There didn't seem to be many people around, so he wandered into an empty studio and tried to remember something from the dance class. His results were mediocre to poor. Tugger gave up, and decided to stretch. Maybe the burn in his limbs would distract him. But hardly a minute had passed when some dance students showed up and told Tugger they had the studio booked and he had to leave. His stomach growled loudly as he brushed past them, and he heard a faint giggle as he left. Tugger hadn't even realized he was hungry.

Not thinking too much, he walked towards the closest cafe. More interested in filling the void in his stomach than savoring the food, he ordered in a daze and sat himself down in a corner. Just when he was considering going back to his apartment to eat whatever was in his fridge instead of waiting for his food to come, he noticed a familiar, black-haired head facing away from him just one table over.

"Misto?" Tugger blurted out before he could think of a smoother introduction. He immediately prepared for the embarrassment of the person not being Misto. He wished he had walked around to confirm it actually was him before shouting it out- but just as he was bracing himself for a wave of awkwardness, the person turned and he was met with the face he had been longing for all day.

"Oh, uh, hi." Misto replied. Tugger was pleased to see the initial confusion in his eyes flicker into recognition.

"So uh," Tugger began, mentally cursing himself for his tongue-tiedness. He had been so focused on figuring out how to get Misto to talk to him that he hadn't actually thought about what he would say. "How's your day?"

"Oh, you know." Misto shrugged, glancing down at the half-finished sandwitch on the plate in front of him. "Just, uh, eating."

"Yeah, same." Tugger nodded. "I uh, tried to practice some things from your class earlier." Tugger said awkwardly. Misto's eyes seemed to brighten with what Tugger hoped was interest. "I was in the dance building and a studio was open so I just gave it a try. Couldn't remember much of it though, it's all pretty new to me."

"We'll see how you do in class next time then." Misto said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Don't get your expectations too high." Tugger said quickly. "I'm still the most beginner of beginners." He paused, to take a breath. "Maybe you could give me a private lesson some time to help me catch up." Tugger hoped it wasn't too forward.

"Maybe." Misto said. Tugger let out the breath he had been holding. "I have to go. See you around."


	10. eccentric confusion

"It's so bulky and awkward." Victoria complained, fiddling with her leg brace. "And I bet I could walk just fine without it, my knee only hurts when I turn my feet out or in too much."

"It's your body." Misto said cautiously. "But I would listen to the doctor if you want to come back to dancing soon."

"I know, I know!" Victoria shot back in frustration. "It's just most of what we usually do is dance. And without that my days just feel so empty! And on top of that now I have to wear this uncomfortable brace!"

"I know it sucks." Misto patted her on the shoulder. "Remember how grumpy I got whering that vest last summer? At least you don't have to sleep in your brace."

"I know, I know. But at least you could stretch your legs! What if I lose flexibility? I don't want to fall behind!" The pitch of her voice rose in anxiety.

"I couldn't properly stretch my back or my shoulders for a lot longer than a month." Misto countered. " And I did lose flexibility. And strength. But it came back in the end. Yours will too."

" I know, I just… you couldn't dance last summer because of a surgery that was _necessary_. I knocked myself out of dancing because I was _stupid_."

Misto felt a lump rise in his throat. "It was my idea and my stupidity and my fault. I… I don't know how to make it up to you."

"It was _both_ our stupidity." Victoria said firmly. "I won't allow you to claim sole ownership."

"Fine." Misto conceded half-heartedly. "Anyways, I should probably head out. Gotta go teach your class."

Victoria glances at the clock. "But that isn't for another hour."

"I ran into one of your students the other day and he expressed interest in, uh, extra help." Misto explained. "Figured I'd go early just in case any of them want a few tips before class. And if no one's early I can always just practice on my own."

"Was it Munk?" Victoria asked. "He's asked me to practice with him privately before."

"Er, I don't know. Didn't catch any names last time." Misto admitted awkwardly.

"Classic." Victoria rolled her eyes. "Was it one of the better dancers- at least compared to the others- in the class?"

"No, one of the worst, actually." Misto said. Victoria gave him a surprised look.

"Try to get a name today then." She said, "I'm very curious to know who."

"If I remember." Misto said with a shrug, then grabbing his bag, he was out the door.

Considering he hadn't actually told anyone he would be there before class if anyone needed help, it shouldn't have been surprising that the studio was empty. But for some reason, a part of him had been expecting to find the same guy he'd run into earlier in the week leaning against the door or stretching in a comically incorrect position. It was nice to have the empty studio though, in the morning he had Jazz practice, and he always liked to warm up and practice by himself for a bit when he was switching between dance styles. Additionally, he still hadn't decided what he would do for the next showcase. It would be time to begin rehearsals for that soon, and he wanted to have something of his own already prepared so that none of his instructors could use his lack of material as an excuse to try to force their choreography on him. After warming up, he searched for a piece of music to improvise to. As a rule he tried to stick to instrumental, as that was what was usually recommended. After a couple of minutes of searching, he settled on a string quartet piece with a dynamic feel.

The movement felt easy and natural, but that was no way to judge whether any of it was any good. He found himself wishing that Victoria was there to videotape and give her opinion. He didn't always practice with his sister, but he trusted her more than anyone. She could give him critiques without imposing too much on his artistic visions, a quality he had yet to find in anyone else. He could watch himself in the mirror when the move allowed, by trying to look at the mirror too much would affect the line of his body. Maybe he would ask Victoria to come with him next time. At the same time, he felt guilty thinking about doing so, knowing how frustrating it was to be in a studio yet unable to dance yourself.

When Misto stopped and moved to shut off the music, he was startled by the sound of clapping from the door. He turned to see two of his students, the one he had run into and the one who had waved at him, standing in the door. He felt a twinge of annoyance. He always hated it when people watched him dance without his knowledge, especially when it was something improvised or unpolished. But Victoria had told him he should try to be nicer and more approachable, so he smiled at them despite himself.

"Thanks for the performance," one of the students said. "Is that what we'll be learning today?"

Misto couldn't help but smile at the badly concealed apprehension on the other student's face.

"No." He told them. "I was just experimenting."

"Shame. It looked really cool. I'd love to learn something like that someday."

"Sorry if we're interrupting, we just wanted to stretch before class." The other student said, seeming eager to change the subject. "I seem to need it."

"You do." Misto agreed, not realizing how harsh it sounded until the other guy laughed.

"Let's get to it then." He said, slapping his friend on the back.

There was no shortage of corrections needed, at least for the less experienced of the two, even when it came to simple stretches. He tried to stay patient, like his sister would, but inevitably grew frustrated. He could only hope that he wouldn't scare them away from future classes.

Other students began to trickle in, many also eager for Misto help with stretches. He got so absorbed in showing them the correct way to stretch that he ended up starting class ten minutes late. He cut the warm up short to compensate, and worked on basics for the whole class rather than giving them a choreography sequence. Most seemed relieved. Misto wondered vaguely why Victoria liked teaching an open-level, mostly beginner class when she could've been a TA for an intermediate or an advanced one. It seemed beyond boring and frustrating to drill them through basics over and over again only for almost none of it to stick. Although he did have to admit it was going better than the previous class at least. Maybe he was being too hard on them.

Despite his frustration, the time passed quicker than he expected. It felt like only a few minutes had passed when a student pointed out that there were only 5 minutes left and he had to end the current exercise abruptly to go into cool down stretches. As he dismissed the class he felt a sense of incompleteness, and found himself already planning out what they would do the following week.

"Do you often practice here before class?" The guy he had ran into earlier in the week asked him as the last of the students were exiting the room.

"Sometimes." Misto said, despite the fact that he had done so for the first time that day. "I like to use the afternoons for self practice."

"Maybe I'll find you sometime then." The guy said. "I'm hopeless practicing on my own and I'll only be annoying my brother if I practice with him."

"I'll look out for you then." Misto said. It was unlike him to be so willing to let a near-stranger into his practice. Maybe he was missing his sister's company. Maybe the fact that the guy didn't know enough about dance to know what was great and what was okay made him less apprehensive about letting him see half-formed choreography.

As he watched the guy leave, Misto realized he had forgotten to ask his name.


End file.
